


The Curse of the Season

by Laurelin (Lintelomiel)



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Breaking Up & Making Up, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Morning, Christmas Smut, Ex Sex, Flashbacks, M/M, Reconciliation Sex, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:19:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintelomiel/pseuds/Laurelin
Summary: Christmas makes you want to be with the people you love most. Even if that person is someone you broke up with over half a year ago.





	The Curse of the Season

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! What you see here is my first contribution to the RichLee Holiday Calendar of 2017! It's been an incredible challenge once again writing two stories with such a hard deadline BUT I did it!
> 
> First off thanks to the mods for setting all this up and I hope we have a great month of festive RichLee fun together and celebrate the season and our love for these two lovable dorks <3
> 
> That being said, I should probably issue a warning that this story has some elements of sadness and heartbreak. HOWEVER, y'all know me, I'm a sucker for a happy/hopeful/uplifting ending so I promise you won't be left heartbroken.
> 
> I think I have said quite enough so let me just close by saying Happy Holidays & I hope you all enjoy & oh, please give your authors/artists some love this month? Comments sustain us :)

_This was a fucking mistake._

Staring at the doorbell - a little round eye that seemed to gaze back at him expressionlessly, almost tauntingly indifferent to the fact that it was well below freezing and he'd been standing there, indecisive and shivering, for what had to have been closer to ten minutes than to five - Lee curled stiff, uncooperative fingers around the soft parcel that felt like a lead weight in his hands (accidentally crinkling the festive paper it was wrapped in, plump little Santas and cartoonish reindeer prancing against a background of garish Christmas red) and contemplated what the fuck to do with it. It was tempting, oh so tempting to simply push the damn thing through the mail slot and turn around, back to his car, away from that evil, mocking eye that seemed to have so little regard for his feelings. He'd floor it all the way home across town, snowy and slippery roads notwithstanding, back to the warmth and comfort of his Brooklyn apartment. What had possessed him to even leave it in the first place? To drive all the way out here tonight of all nights, in hopes of- yeah, what exactly? 

_This is crazy. Absolute madness. I bet he isn't even home. It's Christmas Eve, for fuck's sake. He's probably gone home to see his family. Or passed out drunk at a party somewhere. Or holed up in a ski chalet in the Swiss Alps, curled up nice and warm by the fire with some hot cocoa and-_

He quickly cut off the intrusive thought with a tiny jerk of his head, not permitting himself to dwell on the painfully realistic scenario that had been chipping away at his sanity these last few weeks - or months, if he was fair. _A new boyfriend._

It was a thought that was difficult to bear at the best of times, let alone on Christmas Eve, when he was feeling intensely lonely and sentimental and missed Richard like he imagined one would miss an amputated limb, still waking up every morning only to have his first conscious thought of the day turn inevitably to what should be there but wasn't, experiencing all over again the sorrow and regret over having lost something that could never, ever, be replaced. 

It hadn't always been like this, though. He hadn't started out heartbroken but angry - angry with Richard for letting slip away something good (no, _great_ ), for getting complacent and absent and refusing to acknowledge it until it was too late, and perhaps most importantly, for accepting that goddamn promotion at his work that had been the start of it all, the wedge that had torn them asunder in the end, slowly but surely widening the gap between them until it became unbridgeable and there was nothing left to do but call it quits. 

As devastating as it was in itself to feel that resentful of someone he'd loved so intensely (and clearly still did, damn it, _still fucking did_ ), that initial anger had had its uses. In a way he had probably clung to it, even, because it protected him for a while, shielded him from the crushing regret and agony that followed in its trail. But when eventually, inevitably, the reality of what he'd done caught up with him, he sank into a hole of despair so deep it felt like he'd never see the light of day again. Granted, he'd been through painful breakups in his life before, but nothing like this, God, nothing to prepare him for the heartrending task of cutting Richard out of his life. The three and a half years they'd spent together had been the happiest of Lee's life, and he had thought, perhaps naively, that what they had was the elusive thing one read about in books or saw in movies. That they'd grow old and fat and grey together, adopt a kid or two (maybe) and a couple dogs (definitely) along the way and be the envy of all their friends for being just as sickeningly in love at seventy as they were when they first started dating. (An especially romantic week in Bali came to mind, their first proper holiday together, staying at an idyllic resort that seemed to have materialized right off the pages of a high-end travel brochure, with infinity pools and firepits and incredible food all day round, everything so luxurious that they'd rarely left the hotel premises - or their panoramic suite, even - to explore beautiful Bali rather than each other.) 

He had to face facts - what they forged in Bali and over the following years hadn't proven as sturdy as he'd once thought. It was a bitter pill to swallow, the fond memories he'd once cherished now a source of great daily torment, and there were days when Lee felt like he was stumbling through life blindly and without purpose, so bleak was the prospect of a future without Richard in it, so haunting the fear that perhaps the man he'd once fallen in love with and now missed so desperately no longer existed. Because surely that man wouldn't have meekly packed his bags when Lee told him, in anger, to find another place to live. Surely that man would have asked for a second chance, would have put up more of a fight to salvage their relationship despite the seemingly hopeless state of affairs. But Richard hadn't said a word, not that day, merely giving Lee a forlorn look of hurt as he shouldered a bag of overnight essentials and left. 

Over the next week or so, he'd come back several times only to haul many more bags and boxes out of their once so cozy Greenwich apartment, still in that defeated silence that drove Lee to despair. Pettily, he'd tried to pick fights whenever Richard came over to get more of his stuff, poked and prodded and argued and nagged and screamed, even slapped him once to try and provoke some kind of response, _any kind_ , but Richard suffered it all without uttering a single word of protest, like a beaten puppy that knows it's done wrong. After he moved the last of his things out, six months ago, they'd barely spoken except to exchange practicalities about money and other joint assets through the occasional text message, in a generally civil but chilly tone. Thank God they were not married, Lee did his best to remind himself, sometimes several times a day. A contract, never mind children, would have made the split that much more complicated. At least they were able to cut things off cleanly. At least the only ones hurt in this whole process were the two of them. 

Now, possessing the wisdom of hindsight, Lee didn't so much blame Richard for the breakdown of their relationship as Richard's job at one of America's leading broadcasting companies. At the time, though, he had been so proud when Richard came home early one day toting two takeaway bags from the too-expensive sushi place down the street and announced he'd been offered a promotion, a prestigious position as executive producer at the helm of a fifteen-man-strong team responsible for some of the biggest news broadcasts on primetime US television. To celebrate this milestone, they'd gorged on Richard's haul of sushi and even opened a bottle of champagne, before falling into bed for what ended up being several rounds of raucous, filthy sex. 

If Lee had known then what he knew now - that this coveted promotion came at a steep personal cost - he'd have begged Richard not to take it. But he hadn't cottoned on until it was too late, and before long Richard had started working longer and longer hours. Previously, he'd also worked irregular shifts and occasionally struggled with the tight deadlines that came with working in a high-pressure environment, but at least he'd enjoyed the work and been able to kick back and relax once he came home. After the promotion, it became more and more usual for him to come home tired and snappy and grumpy as all hell. Yet he'd stay up late reading work e-mails and watching reruns seemingly for the sole purpose of agonizing over details that didn't meet the standard he set for himself. When he finally did come to bed, he'd look like death warmed over, and it wasn't long before the sex, which had never given Lee cause for complaint before, became stale and perfunctory and eventually fizzled out all but completely. But Richard himself seemed blind to the glaring warning signs and consistently waved away all of Lee's concerns, saying that it would get better and they needed him to be on top of his game. Who exactly 'they' were never became fully clear, and the promised improvement never materialized. It was painfully clear - to Lee, at least - that while doing everything possible to make sure 'his' newsroom ran like a well-oiled machine, Richard was buckling under the immense pressure to prove himself to the people who had put him in charge. The stress wore on his mental resilience and, alarmingly, brought him to the brink of a burn-out within the span of a few months, but the more emphatically Lee tried to get him to acknowledge the problem, the more dismissive and argumentative Richard became, until Lee hardly recognized the shell of a man lying hollow-eyed in the bed beside him and struggled to remember why they were sharing an apartment in the first place. 

It built to a point where something had to give, and that something ended up being Lee's patience. One day, after many failed attempts to communicate his worry and frustration, anger made him lash out and say the things he did (things he wished he could take back, now, unnecessarily cruel things that stuck in his mind just as stubbornly as the tune of that annoying Spanish song that had been on the radio every five fucking seconds last summer), a last-ditch attempt to make Richard see how desperate the situation had become and what they stood to lose. In a way, he _wanted_ to provoke Richard, to shock him out of his apathy and make him just as angry as he was, because that at least would have been proof that there was still some life left that 'they' hadn't managed to suck out of him. That he still _cared_. 

Needless to say, it had been a disaster. When Lee told him to get the fuck out and take his stuff with him, Richard's eyes had quietly filled with tears, but instead of flaring up and telling Lee that no, he wasn't going anywhere and they were going to sit down and talk and fix this mess, he'd simply gone into the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush and shaving razors to put in a duffle bag along with some clothes, as if quietly acquiescing that there was nothing left to salvage. As if Lee's outburst was something he'd seen coming for a while, and he couldn't even do Lee the courtesy of contesting it. 

In Lee's mind, that just made it so much worse, and it certainly fueled the anger and bitterness that had sustained him for the first few weeks and months following the breakup. But those feelings had been softened and eroded by time, and now the only memory he could summon of that fateful day as he was standing here freezing his toes off for God knew what reason, was of Richard's sad eyes when he was told to get out of Lee's life. 

He glanced down at the parcel in his hands and questioned, for the umpteenth time, whether a Tom Ford cashmere sweater even made for an appropriate gift for an ex-boyfriend, let alone one who was several tax brackets above him now and could buy himself all the nice clothes he wanted. The answer was probably a resounding no, but he'd picked the thing up before their relationship started going south - he was a neurotically early gift purchaser, a trait Richard had often teased him for - after which he had stowed it away in a secret place and forgotten all about it until he unearthed it again during an angry post-breakup cleaning session. He hadn't kept the receipt, but even if he had, there was no way the store would give him a refund after so much time had passed. And even though he and Richard were practically the same size, there was something in him that rebelled against the idea of ripping the tag off and wearing a piece of clothing he'd looked forward to seeing Richard wear. And so he had tucked it in a closet somewhere, not knowing what to do with it, sitting on it as the date of Richard's birthday came and went, and their anniversary after that. 

(Pointless to remember it now, but his mind didn't need the excuse to take him back to that day four years ago when they'd made it official, taking shelter from the rain under a shop awning when Richard pulled Lee closer and suggested they might as well spend the time pleasantly before kissing him, slowly and attentively, sneaking his hands into Lee's back pockets as they really got into it, and damn if that kiss - not their first, but definitely their best to date - hadn't left Lee feeling tingly all over, ready to skip the movie they'd been planning to see, take this boy home and peel his clothes off him layer by layer to find out what was underneath - and he had.) 

But Christmas was a different matter. Christmas, more than any other holiday Lee could think of, had a way of making people nostalgic and soft at heart. Truth was, he missed Richard something fierce and today had been the worst day yet. They'd always spent Christmas together and he didn't know what to do with himself now that that was no longer the default. So when he remembered the sweater, he'd sprung into action - he'd dug up some old wrapping paper he still had lying around from a previous year, jumped into his car and here he was, shivering with the cold and sick with heartache, hoping against all hope that Richard was home and had enough of the Christmas spirit in him to let Lee come inside, even if it was just for a minute or two. Two minutes was all he needed to say his bit and warm up his hands and feet before facing the cold again. Honestly. Although he wouldn't exactly refuse if Richard were to invite him in for, say, a hot cocoa, small though the chances of that were. 

He'd have to ring that bell first, though. 

_Man the fuck up,_  he sternly told himself. _It's not like you actually have anything left to lose here. You saw to that when you kicked him to the curb six months ago. Worst case scenario, you'll find out he's got someone else up there. Somehow, you'll survive that too._

He took a deep breath and rang the bell tagged simply ARMITAGE in Richard's own cursive. Not really expecting an answer, he got a jolt when Richard's voice actually did crackle through the intercom a moment later, curt and not too inviting. "Yes?" 

"Hi - uh - Richard?" Lee cleared his throat, realizing to his horror that his mind had promptly gone blank at the sound of Richard's voice, so familiar despite being malformed by the crappy intercom. "It's Lee." 

What followed was a long and puzzled silence on the other end. There was more Lee wanted to say, explanations he should probably offer as to what he was doing here and why he hadn't bothered to at least call or text beforehand to check if he was welcome, but for whatever reason his mouth wouldn't form the words, perhaps in part due to the fact that half his face felt frozen solid by now. It probably would have been wise to put on a scarf, he mused. 

"Come on up." Almost unexpectedly, the door buzzed. "Second floor, last door on the right. Watch out on the stairs, they can be slippery and there's a broken light the super hasn't fixed yet." 

Lee found his way in the strange apartment building easily enough, slugging up the stairs on feet that felt numb and quite detached from his body. He was about to face Richard for the first time in six months - months of cycling through every emotion in the book - and it struck him as more than a little ironic that he had cold feet in both the literal and figurative sense of the word. Yet he kept going, holding the gift-wrapped parcel clutched to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him afloat in a vast, stormy sea - which, to tell the truth, wasn't too far from how he felt. 

By the time he reached the second floor, he had already forgotten the second half of Richard's instructions, but it didn't matter - Richard was standing in the open doorway of his apartment, waiting for him. Lee got a little shock seeing him there, just a silhouette, but one that was unmistakably Richard - arms crossed, hands tucked under his armpits for warmth, light spilling out from behind him. It was only when Lee came closer that small changes in Richard's appearance began jumping out at him, minor but noticeable discrepancies where the man he remembered and the one standing in front of him didn't quite overlap - his hair was cropped closer to the scalp, his beard scruffier, he was wearing sweatpants and a roomy sweater Lee hadn't seen before and, more alarmingly, the sharper lines of his face suggested some recent weight loss. 

Somehow it was these changes, however insignificant they were, that drove home to Lee how long a time six months could be, and it made him wonder in what ways he himself had changed in the interim. How odd, really, and how heartbreakingly sad, to share everything one moment and live completely separate lives the next. It had been a shock to the system, adjusting to bachelor life again. Lee had never been single for long periods of time, believing that life was better with two, but this time he'd found himself struggling to start from scratch again, and he had a creeping suspicion that the few pitiful - and unsuccessful - attempts he'd made at dating hardly counted as 'moving on' (a phrase he'd heard just a couple times too many from concerned friends and family members who doubtlessly meant well). And casual hookups appealed even less. No, what he longed for more than anything these days was comfort and intimacy, sleepy cuddles, lazy evenings curled up on the couch, a hand on the back of his neck just because, someone asking about his day or the book he was reading or what he'd like to have for dinner. Maybe he was getting old, but clubbing and screwing around just didn't have the appeal anymore that it once did. 

On the upside, it didn't exactly look like he'd interrupted a hot date here either. That realization had a much stronger impact than Lee would have thought, making his knees buckle with relief despite his best attempts at a confident saunter. 

It was sobering, how quickly any hope he might have had of facing Richard with some dignity, playing it casual, went out the window once he laid eyes on the man who stood there in the doorway, a guarded look on his face that betrayed very little as to what he was thinking or feeling. Such a far cry from the way Richard used to look at him, before it all went to shit. To say that Lee had hoped for a different kind of welcome would have been a lie. A smile, however small, would have gone a long way in reassuring him, but there was none - Richard's face, like the rest of his demeanor, remained unsettlingly icy. 

_Well, what did you expect, though? You fucking broke up with him in a fit of hysterics, called him every name in the book, took a swing at him to boot. No wonder he's not exactly welcoming you with open arms when you come slinking back after six months like a sad puppy looking for love._

He cringed physically at the memory that refused to be wiped from his mind, the look of shock and hurt that had crossed Richard's face as he recoiled from the slap Lee had given him in the heat of the moment. Brief though it had been, that look had stuck in Lee's heart like a thorn and refused to budge, haunting him ever since. God, what an ass he'd been that day. No matter how just his anger, Richard hadn't deserved that kind of treatment. At the end of the day, he too had been a victim in that whole mess of a situation, and nothing excused what Lee had done. Nothing. 

He saw Richard staring at him and realized it was probably time he opened his mouth and said something, but now that the moment had come to regurgitate the light-hearted little speech he'd prepared in the car on the drive over, he found himself struggling to find the words. "I-" 

Perhaps Richard saw him emotionally flailing. Either way, something in his demeanor changed, concern replacing his wary expression as he unfolded his arms, took a step in Lee's direction, extended a hand. Lee could see it clearly, even through the fog of unexpected tears suddenly misting up his vision. _Fuck_. 

"Jesus, Lee. Are you all right?" Lee stumbled and felt one of Richard's hands take him by the elbow, gentle yet steady. The other brushed against his face, wiping away the salty wetness in a spontaneous, unrehearsed gesture that seemed to surprise Richard as much as it did Lee. It felt good all the same, and Lee couldn't help turning his face into the touch and the warmth of Richard's hand. He noticed Richard looking positively startled. "Christ - you're icy cold. What happened?" 

"I'm sorry," Lee blurted hoarsely. "For hitting you, so sorry, Rich. Please believe me." 

It wasn't exactly what he'd been planning to say first, but apparently, it somehow got bumped to the head of the line. Maybe it was the only thing that really needed saying anyway - the only thing Richard had to unequivocally know - and it was long overdue. 

Richard didn't respond. Instead he curled an arm around Lee's shoulders and ushered him inside, closing the door behind him to shut out the biting winter cold while Lee stood in the hallway shivering and caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. God, he looked like a ghost - a pale, puffy-eyed ghost in a too-thin jacket. No hat, no gloves. "I'm sorry," he croaked pathetically. Richard might not accept his apology, but he wanted to make sure he'd heard it at least. 

"Leave it." Richard's tone was gentle. "Come in and warm up a bit." 

The apartment was smaller and messier than Lee had expected, and there were no plants anywhere, not even a Christmas tree. In fact, only a few postcards on the dresser reminded of the season. But it was wondrously warm inside, and there was an open bottle of bourbon on the table, a glass beside it. 

Richard saw where Lee's gaze went. "Want one? That stuff'll warm you up for sure." 

Lee shook his head mechanically. "I still have to drive back." 

"Tea then? I'll go and make some." 

"Don't bother, Rich." Lee stopped him. "You're sweet to offer, but- I shouldn't take too much of your time. I just came over to give you this." He held out the parcel tremulously, suddenly fearful Richard might not accept it. "Merry Christmas." 

From the deep red blush promptly engulfing Richard's face, it was clear that a gift was the last thing he'd been expecting. "But I didn't get you anything." 

"It's okay. I didn't- I bought it way back in March. You know me." Lee mustered a smile. "It's a sweater I thought was perfect for you. You don't have to wear it if it's too weird, but- I got it for you and I thought you should have it." He thrust out the gift, practically shoving it into Richard's chest. "Take it, Rich. Please." 

Eventually Richard did, muttering a thanks as he gingerly took his present from Lee's hands and turned away to put it on the dresser. 

"You're not going to open it?" 

"I will, tomorrow morning. Didn't you always tell me it was bad luck to open the presents before Christmas Day?" 

"Oh... yeah, that's true. I did." Lee smiled, this time completely unforced. "Not that that stopped you from sneaking a peek last year when I dropped hints about putting a little sexy something under the tree for you." 

Richard also cracked a little smile at the memory, but a moment later his eyes dimmed again. "Perhaps I shouldn't have tempted fate like that," he said softly. "I've never been superstitious, but this has certainly felt like a very unlucky year across the board, to put it euphemistically." 

"I know what you mean." There was nothing aloof about Richard's demeanor now; in fact, he looked as miserable as Lee felt, and Lee didn't know which was harder to bear. "I'm sorry, Rich." 

"That's the third time you've said that." It wasn't said as a joke, nor as a rebuke. It was simply a mournful stating of a fact. 

"I know it is. And I know any apology I make won't fix a thing. But I just couldn't let Christmas go by without at least letting you know how much I regret it. Hitting you, and- the whole horrid affair. The way I acted." 

"It was nothing I didn't deserve." Richard sighed and leaned back heavily on the dresser. "Why did you come, Lee? Why tonight? Don't tell me that present couldn't have waited a couple more days." 

_Because Christmas makes you want to be with the people you love._ It was a corny phrase Lee remembered from a TV show he and Richard used to binge watch together before Netflix and chill was a thing, but damn if he hadn't discovered the truth in it these last couple days. He knew better than to regurgitate it at a moment like this, though. 

"I don't know." In a sense, this was just as true. "I just know that I wanted to. Wanted to see you, and say sorry." 

"So you drove all the way out here." 

"Yes." 

"On Christmas Eve. Not even knowing if I was home." 

"Yes." 

For a few moments Richard just gazed at him intently, narrowed eyes searching for Lee wasn't sure what. "I ran some errands this morning, before the shops closed. The roads were pretty icy even then. If you'd called me before leaving, I'd have told you not to risk it." 

Lee shrugged. He was a responsible driver and Richard knew that. He certainly didn't feel like he'd taken an exorbitant risk in making the drive. "Are you saying you'd rather I hadn't come?" 

"No, I'm saying I'd rather you not get behind the wheel in weather like this when it's not absolutely necessary." With another sigh, Richard lowered his head and rubbed his forehead, like he would do when he was struggling with his emotions and wanted to hide it. It had never worked with Lee before and it didn't do so now. 

"Please, Richard. It was only the Brooklyn Bridge, not the Trans-Siberian Highway." It was meant light-heartedly, but as a joke it fell flat. As he stood there watching Richard be visibly distraught, wishing he felt sure enough of himself to get closer and hug him the way he used to do when he was upset (because while his sense of humor sometimes failed, his hugs never did), Lee heard himself quietly adding, "I miss you, you know." It slipped out of him against his better judgment. 

Richard jerked his head slightly, looking pained. "Don't say that." 

"It's true, though. I'm not trying to fuck with your head." 

"Well, that's kind of what it feels like." Richard wiped surreptitiously at his eyes before meeting Lee's gaze. "All I've been doing these past few months is trying to keep myself from falling apart. You showing up like this, saying those things, doesn't exactly help." 

"I'm s-" 

"Lee, I swear to God, if you say you're sorry one more time..." Richard straightened up with a wry smile, squared his shoulders. Cleared his throat. "Now will you _please_ let me make you a cup of tea and take off your jacket? You're dripping on my carpet. My landlord's carpet, rather, which is worse, as you would know if you knew my landlord." 

Richard's little gibe made Lee laugh and finally broke the tension, so he nodded yes to the offer of tea and peeled off his jacket while Richard went into the kitchen. Ten minutes later, they were sitting side by side on the couch, strangely companionably, taking small sips from their steaming mugs of Earl Grey, Lee's with a healthy splash of hot milk, because Richard remembered his preferences. 

"This is nice," Lee said truthfully. He was no longer cold, and Richard sitting so close to him felt pretty damn good, too. "I like your place." 

"Liar." 

Lee laughed. "I do. I really do. Brooklyn is all right, but I miss Manhattan, hectic, expensive place that it is. I would gladly trade some of my square footage on the other side of the bridge for a place like this." 

(Truth be told, he was surprised Richard's ample paycheck hadn't secured him something a little closer to an Upper East Side loft by now, but he wisely kept that thought to himself.) 

"I'm glad I found you home," he went on. "I thought you might have gone to see your family back home or were sitting on a mountain in the snow somewhere." 

"I'm not going skiing this year," Richard said, shaking his head. He offered no further explanation as to why - Richard rarely skipped a skiing season - and Lee didn't get the sense that one would be given even if he asked. "What about you? How come you're not down in Texas?" 

Lee shrugged. "Mom and Dad are away visiting relatives in Oregon. They asked me to join them, but- I don't know. Didn't feel like being social, I guess. I thought I'd try and ignore the whole Christmas thing this year." 

Richard looked somewhat amused by this. "I don't think you can ignore Christmas, Lee." 

"Hey, it's not unheard of. Lots of people give Christmas a miss. Jews, for example." 

"You're not Jewish, though. Not even a little bit." 

Lee chuckled, surprised at how quickly and how naturally it all came back to them - the banter, the little jokes, the sense of enjoying and being comfortable in each other's company despite everything. "I guess you're right, Christmas proved harder to escape than I thought. Because I was sitting at home alone tonight and got an acute case of the Christmas blues and, well... here I am." 

"Here you are," Richard said softly. He didn't say anything else, but slowly, almost thoughtlessly, he reached out a hand and traced the rim of Lee's ear with a fingertip before running affectionate fingers through his hair, from his ear down to the nape of his neck. The caress was simple, unexpected, and so reminiscent of happier times that it sent a powerful ripple of longing and joy down Lee's spine, not least because it was so spontaneously bestowed, as if the past few months had never happened. It felt so lovely that he sat motionless for fear of breaking the spell, too scared to breathe almost, dreading the moment Richard would catch himself in the act and lift his hand away. When it came, he grasped Richard's hand and held it, held it still. "Don't stop," he whispered hoarsely. 

"Lee, I'm-" 

"Don't stop. Please." Lee turned to meet his gaze, and somewhere in there he found the courage to lean across impulsively (even though his heart pounded in his throat the entire time), slowly enough that Richard had the time to stop him if this was not what he wanted. But he didn't, despite the conflicting emotions darting across his face, and finally his eyes trailed down to Lee's mouth before slipping closed in tacit acquiescence, lips parting in anticipation. More than anything, it was this that gave Lee that final push of encouragement, his pulse racing as he crossed the last few inches and timidly pressed his mouth to Richard's. There was no rational thought involved, just the same instinctual need that had prompted him to jump into his car earlier, a magnetic pull that was stronger than any objections his mind could produce. 

The first few moments of the kiss were tremulous - still and breathless and almost without movement - until Richard breathed out a little sigh against Lee's lips, his fingers curling gently around the nape of Lee's neck as if to prolong this thing that they were doing, this crazy, potentially very unwise, but completely natural-feeling thing. Then it was as if all restraints fell away at once and they were swept up in the full force of a torrential kiss, at least one of them spilling hot tea as they were suddenly in a great rush to get their hands free to put on each other instead, grabbing clothes and hair and whatever else was available as they crashed into one another and held on for dear life. For Lee, there was a desperate violence to it, an abrupt and powerful unleashing of emotions that had been building up and festering inside him for a long time, and apparently it wasn't any different for Richard, judging from the eager way in which he curled his body into Lee's, arched up off the couch when Lee all but climbed into his lap and opened his mouth to receive Lee's tongue when it slid hotly along his bottom lip, a deep moan escaping both of them when the first shy press of their tongues quickly escalated into something a lot more heated. 

There was no point in pretending that this was just a kiss for old times' sake. This was rapidly evolving into full-blown making out, and Lee knew exactly how that would end if they let it. 

Objectively, it was probably sheer stupidity on both their parts to even entertain the idea of getting into bed together simply because they were here and they could and they were apparently both horny as fuck. Sex with an ex was certainly a line Lee had never crossed before. But Christ, why did something so astronomically wrong have to feel so fucking _right_? Why was it that all common sense evacuated Lee's mind the second he felt the firm, comforting press of Richard's body against his own, offering the physical contact he'd been starved of for far too long? It made him want to be stupid and impulsive and reckless, regardless of the consequences they would inevitably have to deal with after this was over. 

Eventually he had to pull away, lungs screaming for air. Richard gave a mournful whine of protest and tried to chase his mouth, only stilling when Lee made him, taking his face between his hands and waiting for him to open his eyes. "How about we take this to your bed?" 

It was a bold suggestion, but Richard's dilating pupils and gaping mouth told him he'd struck exactly the right tone. 

"God, Lee, I don't know if that's-" Richard shook his head as if trying to break out of his daze. When he raised his face up to Lee again, Lee could see hope and longing written all over it. "I mean... shit, Lee, I'm going crazy right now wanting you, but... are you absolutely sure about this?" 

There were many things Lee wanted to say to embellish the emphatic _yes_ that was the only possible answer to that question, truths that were dying to be set free. He wanted to tell Richard that he hadn't stopped loving him, how miserable he'd been, how much he regretted the things he'd said that night six months ago, when something inside him snapped and he lashed out without thinking, breaking up with him for reasons that in this moment seemed, well, maybe not insignificant, but far from insurmountable. He wanted to tell him that even if this rift proved irreparable, surely one more night together - even if it was just to ward off the loneliness they'd both been feeling - couldn't be a bad thing? But even in his head all of these things sounded trite and manipulative, so he merely nodded and waited for Richard's decision with pounding heart. 

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long. 

"Oh, fuck it," Richard murmured thickly, and he pushed himself up off the couch, pulling Lee up to his feet and into his arms, and barely had he done so or there was more kissing, open-mouthed and feverish, and even if the heat of Richard's mouth wasn't enough to render Lee light-headed and make the objectively simple task of navigating a path across the living room difficult, the insistent press of his cock through his sweats and the feel of his hands working their way underneath the layers of Lee's clothing to touch skin definitely were. The sex had never been a problem - except for the last few weeks of their relationship, when they'd barely had any - and after all those months and the bitterness of their breakup it was both astonishing and uplifting to discover how comfortable it felt right off the bat, as if their bodies needed just that one little push to remember how well they fit together and this was the most natural thing for them to be doing. 

After a precarious journey, stumbling and feeling their way, and a brief interlude of Lee being pinned against the wall and nearly losing his mind as Richard ground into him slowly, they finally made it into Richard's bedroom - their route across the apartment marked by a trail of various discarded items of clothing - and tumbled onto the bed ungracefully in the middle of one of those searing kisses, too focused on each other to care about where and how they landed. Reluctantly, Lee pulled away to deal with his jeans, damn uncooperative things that they were, and as he struggled with them he enviously eyed Richard who had a much easier task of it with the sweats. They came off in the blink of an eye and Lee's gaze was inexorably drawn to what they had kept - well, somewhat - hidden, Richard's cock rearing up proud and hard between his legs. The responding rush of blood to his own groin was immediate, making the need to get those jeans off in a hurry even more acute. 

"Quit gawking, Pace." Richard's chiding tone was in jest, a mischievous smile playing around his mouth when Lee looked up quasi-guiltily. "You're making me shy." 

"Cut me some slack, Rich. Yeah, I've missed that beautiful cock too. Sue me." As Richard blushed and laughed, Lee finally finished peeling off his jeans and boxer briefs, kicking them off the bed impatiently so they were equal in their nakedness, then reaching up and pulling Richard back in for another kiss. This time, they allowed themselves to slow down a bit, to not be quite so frantic and rushed about what they were doing, and Richard seemed to appreciate the chance in pace too, stretching himself out leisurely on top of Lee. It was even more noticeable now that he had lost a couple pounds, but Lee didn't mourn that fact too long as there was still plenty of him left for Lee to enjoy the weight of that man pressing him down into the mattress, the way he always had. 

Still, none of these kisses had yet succeeded in taking away completely Lee's fear that this would go away. That he would blink and all of this would disappear in an instant and he would be left in despair once again. 

"Don't stop." He kept saying it, repeating those two little words over and over in a litany of pleas, a whispered incantation to make these moments last. "Please, Rich, don't stop." 

"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry." Richard cupped his chin, gently pressing their foreheads together before kissing him again, a sweet soft thing that felt like a promise. He pulled back, briefly, surveying Lee's face as if to check he was okay, and he must have been reassured by what he saw as he smiled and leaned back in to kiss Lee's neck, below the ear, then gradually venturing lower, nuzzling here and nipping there while Lee let his head fall back and closed his eyes in bliss and surrender, his hand settling in Richard's hair as he took his time traveling further south. The trail was generously marked with kisses, not a single one of Lee's sweet spots left unvisited on the way down. When Richard's mouth slowly traced his hipbone, joined by cool fingers that brushed his cock and then tentatively grasped it, an eager jolt racked Lee's limbs. "Okay?" Richard asked immediately, worry seeping into his voice, as if Lee's response left any room for misinterpretation on that front. 

"Christ, _yes_." Lee hissed out a breath between his teeth, first in pleasure and then in frustration when Richard's lips brushed the head of his cock agonizingly softly, followed by a feathery flick of the tongue across his slit. A whimper of protest escaped him. "Rich, come _on_ -" 

"Open your legs for me," Richard instructed, his voice unexpectedly deep and so goddamn husky that Lee couldn't fling his legs apart quickly enough, grunting in approval when confident fingers covered his balls and the hot slickness of Richard's tongue appeared at the root of his cock, licking a wet stripe up the length of him. It lavished attention on the tip for a spell, unhurried and playful and with obvious knowledge of what made Lee writhe with need, while Richard's fingers caressed and massaged his balls maddeningly idly, occasionally rubbing them together in their sac of skin until they were nestled up so closely to the shaft that Lee wondered how much more of this unrelenting pressure he could take before he exploded. 

And then, with a casual adjustment of his fingers, Richard grasped the base of his cock and took him into his mouth, tentatively at first, but it wasn't long at all before he was able to tap fully into his considerable reservoir of experience and skill and move more smoothly. Lee lifted his head up to watch, sparing a moment of gratitude for the fact that they'd left the light on so he could admire the sight of Richard's head bobbing sensually between his thighs. "Ohhh, _fuck_ ," he moaned through gritted teeth when he felt himself go all the way in for the first time, despairing at the growing realization that he was already much closer to a violent orgasm than he would have wanted or liked, and he grasped frantically at Richard's too-short hair, fingers scraping the back of Richard's scalp, undecided as to what he wanted more - to let himself come with Richard going down on him like this or to try and get him to ease up before he actually did go over the edge and this was over before it'd even started. 

"Ease off on the hair pulling, will you?" Richard chastised as he pulled off with a smirk. Unlike earlier that night, he seemed at ease and confident in what he was doing, and the hoarseness of his voice put a tingle up Lee's spine. "I am quite attached to my hair and I'd like to keep it. If you want me to go slow, use your words." 

"Sorry." Lee managed a breathless chuckle. "No, it's not that I want you to go slow. I just-" He swallowed, losing his train of thought for a moment and grasping at coherency when Richard's fingers curled around his cock once more and started working him over almost nonchalantly. "I wish I could last at this for hours, Rich, but sadly that's not going to be an option and the only way I want to come right now is with your cock inside me." He was surprised it came out as articulate as it did, and Richard's pupils flared at the admission. 

"Well, that can be arranged." 

Richard shifted gears then, holding Lee's cock up as he dipped his head lower and licked at the base, just a little flick between shaft and balls that nonetheless drew a guttural, incoherent noise from Lee's throat. Then, with Lee still watching, he sucked a finger into his mouth and wetted it thoroughly before sliding it down Lee's cleft. Lee's knees dropped back to his chest of their own accord and he gave a plaintive whine as Richard's finger found his opening and nudged inside, just an inch or two. It pulled out, only to return newly wet and push back in again, this time a little deeper and with less effort. This went on for a couple minutes, Richard patiently working Lee open using only spit and the clever twists and strokes of one, then two fingers, until Lee was squirming around Richard's fingers and feverishly working his hips to try and draw them deeper, to direct them to that spot at his core he needed touched more than anything. When Richard finally relented and crooked his fingers to the front, it was as if an electric shock passed through Lee's body, and then another and _another_ as those incredible fingers swiveled slowly inside him, pulled out, pushed back in slick, scraped his prostate, then pulled out to do it again, fucking into Lee purposefully and with torturously precise movements that made the need to be fucked roar in Lee's belly like a blazing fire, its flames licking their way up his spine with each stroke deep inside of him. 

And Richard, _that fucker_ , hummed low in his throat as though pleased with the torment he was inflicting. "Do you want my cock now?" he asked, voice thick and raspy with want, and he rotated his wrist and scissored his fingers as he pulled almost all the way out, spreading Lee wide as if to demonstrate that he was prepared and ready. "Or my tongue first?" 

Lee whined, a sound high and desperate. It was an impossible choice, and yet an answer tumbled from his lips of its own accord. "Tongue." 

Richard complied promptly this time and Lee did what he could to assist, angling his legs up and out of the way - essentially folding himself up so Richard got the access he needed - and biting down on his bottom lip as he felt something warm and slick and _flexible_ join Richard's fingers, flicking experimentally at his perineum, then at his rim. He hoped and prayed to God that he was clean, as he hadn't exactly thought to prepare for this. Richard proceeded dauntlessly though, his fingers keeping Lee spread open while his tongue took over the dynamic role, pushing in hot and slick, shallowly at first and then gradually deeper, more forcefully, encouraged by the resounding moans and grunts Lee couldn't even be bothered to try and back. Surely he wasn't the only one getting laid on Christmas Eve and if anyone heard and took offense, they could very well fuck off. 

Soon, too soon for Lee's liking, Richard stopped and leaned up to make eye contact. "You always did love a good rimming," he observed, with one of those unintentionally sexy, crooked smiles Lee had fallen for way back when. "Glad to see that hasn't changed." 

"Glad to see you still know your way around down there," Lee countered in the same spirit of playful vulgarity, at which Richard sniggered and scrambled to his knees, crawling up to bring his face level with Lee's and gaze down at him fondly. 

"As if I'd forget," he murmured, in a tone so unexpectedly tender that Lee couldn't help but reach out and pull him down for a kiss, soft yet intimate, Lee tasting himself when he slid the tip of his tongue along Richard's bottom lip and was granted entrance. Their cocks were trapped between their bodies, and even though the first time Richard shifted his hips and brought them into contact may have been unintentional, the second, third, and fourth time surely weren't, and it became a deliberate, sensual grinding, Lee arching up off the bed eagerly to meet Richard's thrusts and sliding his hands down his back to grab his ass and guide him as best he could. He was ready, so ready for Richard to move his hips just a fraction and thrust _in_ instead of down and- 

As if reading his mind, Richard pulled back to survey Lee's face, mouth red and puffy from kissing. "You really are sure of this?" It was asked in a tone that reminded Lee of happier times, when a term of endearment might have followed a question like that. 

It was a thought that had the potential to kill the mood completely, so Lee pushed it firmly out of his mind. "Please. I need you, Rich. Need you right now." 

Richard responded to the whispered plea like a racehorse to the whip, giving Lee another heated kiss before rocking back on his haunches and spitting into his hand, holding Lee's gaze as he slicked himself up, a sight Lee sadly didn't get to admire the way he would have liked, as he had his legs slung around Richard's hips the next moment and Richard was kissing his neck and pushing in, slowly slowly, his hips pressing closer and his cock stretching Lee wide until he was fully impaled and _God_ \- 

It felt so goddamn perfect that he wanted to cry. 

"Slow, slow," he whispered, pleaded, still desperate to stave off the moment he had been dreading ever since Richard first touched him on the couch, and Richard, bless his heart, did try to hold back, to make it last, but once Richard started biting Lee's neck - while fucking in with wonderfully deep, unrelenting strokes - Lee knew it wouldn't be long before he went over the edge. And he wondered, for a moment, how it was possible that someone he had barely spoken to for over half a year still knew his body this intimately, like a musician picking up an old instrument again after some time, well-practiced fingers finding the strings without thought and playing a flawless melody - until the pressure that had been building inside of him released and he fell apart, a harsh sob freely tearing from his throat as he did so. 

Afterwards, once Richard had heavily rolled off of Lee and pulled him close (and damn if Lee's heart didn't exalt at that, because that one simple gesture of an arm finding its way around his waist expressed so much more than any hookup, no matter how satisfying, ever could), they both grew quiet, albeit not in an unpleasant way, and Lee closed his eyes to enjoy the carefree simplicity of being tucked up against another warm body in the immediate wake of a spectacular fuck, lazy contentment spreading through his bones. 

Unfortunately, in the end, the haze of post-coital bliss lifted - like it inevitably had to - and even though Richard never moved a muscle, Lee could feel the relaxation leaving with it, tension creeping back in as reality dug its cold, hard claws in. But to Lee's relief, the regret he had feared would follow - regret over what they'd just done, how impulsive it had been and how much more complicated it might make things - never materialized. 

If Richard felt differently, however - if he pulled away now, Lee didn't think he could bear it. 

As if on cue, Richard licked his lips, cleared his throat. "Lee..." Something in his tone made Lee open his eyes and brace himself. "Don't get me wrong, because that was incredible, but God, it- it just occurred to me - we didn't talk about condoms, and we probably should've, considering-" He caught himself in the middle of his sentence and didn't finish. "That was pretty careless. I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." Lee breathed out slowly, relaxing somewhat. "You're right, we probably should've talked about it, but we didn't and that's not just on you. I could've said something too." 

"Why didn't you?" 

"I guess-" Lee considered his answer for a moment. "I guess because in a way I wanted to pretend nothing has changed, even though it has. It's probably pretty stupid, I know, but there you go." He paused again, waiting for a question that didn't come, so he took it upon himself to give reassurance. "Even so, I would've said something if there was anything for you to worry about, but there isn't. I've been with no one else." 

As Richard chewed this over in silence for a moment or two, it was hard to tell if Lee's revelation surprised him at all. "You haven't?" 

"That's right, Richard. If I'd been banging anyone else, trust me, I wouldn't have put you at risk like that. I trust you'd do me the same courtesy." 

"Yeah- yes, of course. Shit, I didn't mean it like that, I just-" Richard shook his head as if to rearrange his thoughts and line his words up the right way. "Rumor on Facebook had it that you were dating a while ago - how'd that work out then?" 

Lee smiled, finding that he liked the idea of Richard lowkey keeping tabs on him through social media - after all, he'd definitely been doing the same thing, or at least tried to, but Richard shared so frustratingly little online that it was impossible to get a feel of where his love life was at. For all Lee had known at the time, Richard was reliving his bachelor days at all the gay clubs and getting tons of angry rebound sex. None of their mutual friends reported any such thing, but at times he wondered if they knew more than they thought wise to tell him. 

"How do you think it worked out, given that I had time on Christmas Eve to drive over here all spur of the moment?" 

"Touché." Richard smiled. "I'm glad you did, for what it's worth." And as he said this, surprisingly softly and sincerely, he tugged Lee a little closer. For some reason, that small gesture made Lee's throat clog up unexpectedly. God, he had missed being held like this, that feeling of being part of something bigger and better than himself. Even after things had started going south in their relationship, they'd still known moments like this, albeit fewer and farther in between, and in the end, it hadn't been enough, not enough for Lee to stick around and wait for Richard to catch on to how much they'd drifted apart and do something about it. 

Looking back on it now, he had the sinking feeling that he could have done more himself, could have been more understanding, more patient, more supportive, and not such an asshat at the very end. The hard ultimatums he'd given Richard instead certainly hadn't helped matters - if anything, they'd probably been the exact opposite of constructive. 

"Why did you?" Richard's question sliced through Lee's musings. "Come, I mean." 

Richard had asked the same question earlier, in a suspicious, wary tone that was thankfully absent now. Perhaps that was why Lee dared give a more truthful answer this time around. 

"Because. It's Christmas, and it's the best holiday if you're happy, but if you're not, it's miserable as hell. And it made me miss you a whole fucking lot, to the point where I didn't know what to do with myself other than drive on over and ring your doorbell." 

"Ah yes, the curse of the season. Unfortunately I know a thing or two about it." Richard sighed. "I'm really sorry to hear you haven't been happy. That's not what I wanted for you." 

"Don't be sorry. It's a bed I made for myself." 

At this, Richard turned his head to gaze at him, eyes brimming with a sadness that made Lee's heart ache with guilt. _You did that_ , he told himself. Even on his worst days, when he came home from work tired and stressed, Richard hadn't looked as somber as he did right at this moment. No, the blame for that lay entirely on Lee's shoulders and he knew it, even if Richard himself wouldn't say so. In fact, Richard had never said a single bad thing about him, not even when Lee behaved as poorly as he did. Suddenly, he wondered if what he'd interpreted as indifference and a lack of caring on Richard's part had in fact been something else entirely - that Richard had simply left without argument because he thought Lee would be happier without him. 

Idiots. They'd both been idiots. 

Unfortunately, looking at Richard now not only reminded Lee of his shortcomings but also drove home the fact that no, he hadn't moved on from this man one iota. How could he expect or even hope to fall in love like that again in his lifetime? It had been like an earthquake with Richard, a sudden and momentous event that changed the landscape of Lee's life for good, the first time this man smiled at him - sheepishly approaching him in the laundromat to ask if he could borrow some of his detergent. Although it seemed odd that anyone would head down to a laundromat without something as essential as that, Lee wasn't one to snark at a friendly stranger (especially such a ridiculously good-looking one, which, yes, Lee had definitely noticed) and they'd struck up a conversation during spin cycle. Lee had been mesmerized by how blue Richard's eyes were and how expressive his hands, and he had spared more than a moment even then to wonder how those long fingers would feel on his bare skin, running through his hair or curled around his hips. They'd gone on their first proper date the next Saturday and found more to bond over, including their shared love for classic Hollywood movies, and on the way back from the cinema they'd stopped at the Rockefeller Center ice rink to watch people fall on their asses and have a merry time doing so. There, Richard had initiated the first tentative kiss, and confessed afterwards that he'd thought of Lee all week. To say that Lee's heart just about thumped out of his chest at that admission would have been an understatement, and when they saw each other again two days later Richard hadn't even waited until the end of the date to kiss Lee again, his hand settling on the small of Lee's back and staying there even when he pulled away to tell him - softly, like it was a secret too precious to be shared - that he was falling in love. "I think I am too," Lee whispered back, dizzy and barely able to breathe for happiness. 

Yeah, he wasn't optimistic about his chances to be struck by thunder like that a second time. 

It had taken close to a year for Richard to confess that there was a little more to their first meeting than Lee had always thought. By then they were sharing their first little apartment - which meant sharing laundry duty as well - and Lee rarely missed an opportunity to fondly tease Richard about the forgotten detergent that had brought them together; in fact, it became something of a running gag between them and a beloved party anecdote for Lee to dish up as often as he could get away with. Richard usually took the jokes in his stride, laughing with Lee whenever he treated people to the story of how they'd met, until one night in late November - the weekend of Thanksgiving, Richard's first time being exposed to the bulk of Lee's extended family and the wonders of Texan cuisine. At some point during the evening, Lee had found himself sharing a table with his grandparents - his mom's parents, over fifty years married and still openly besotted with each other - and telling them the laundromat story with his usual relish while Richard sat by with a resigned smile and rosy cheeks (which Lee attributed to the wine and spirits he had been partaking in), until all of a sudden Richard blurted out, "Actually - that's not quite how it went." 

When everyone, including Lee, turned to look at him in surprise, his slight flush deepened to a beetroot red, and he quickly went on to add, "I mean, I wasn't- I didn't- technically speaking, I didn't forget the detergent. That was just something I made up as an excuse to talk to you." 

Everyone just gaped at him, unsure how to react, until Lee uttered a very eloquent, "Huh?" 

"I know, cheesy, right?" Richard offered up a grin that was half embarrassment, half apology for the unprompted confession which he could see had thrown Lee for a bit of a loop to say the least. "I'm sorry, love, I know you love the story. But in the end, it was nothing but a bad pickup line, I'm afraid." 

Later, once the hilarity passed and conversation at the table moved on to different things, Lee excused himself as soon as was polite and dragged Richard off to a quiet spot by the window where they could talk. "So, just a pickup line, huh?" 

"I'm sorry," Richard said, barely able to contain his laughter. 

"No, you're not. I can tell by that smirk on your face that you're not, fucker." Feigning offense, Lee planted his hands on his hips. "I'm listening to any explanation that might be forthcoming." 

Richard shrugged. "There's not much to it, other than there was this super gorgeous guy I kept seeing around my neighborhood, I mean really a stunner, face and arms and ass on him that make you stop in your tracks in the street and just gawk as he goes by. Could never figure out quite how to approach him, though. But after a good long while of unproductive pining I spotted him at the laundromat one day and he fucking _smiled_ at me and in a blind panic I blurted out the first thing that came to mind and, uh... yeah. You know the rest." 

Lee felt a traitorous smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. "I see. And it took you almost a year to tell me this because...?" 

At this, Richard had the courtesy to blush at least. "I don't know. At first it was embarrassment, I guess, for being such a spectacularly bad flirt. And you seemed to enjoy telling the story so much that I just sort of... let it go. It seemed innocuous enough, and after a while I felt like too much time had gone by and I'd missed my chance. But then I got here and realized- this is your _family_. I imagine I will be seeing these people at family functions for many years to come, and seeing you with your grandparents - who are the loveliest people, by the way - sort of cast my mind to the future." He glanced over his shoulder at Lee's grandparents, who seemed perfectly content to be in each other's company, surrounded by their large clan and doted on by the little ones. "It made me realize that if I want to be able to listen to you telling that story to our kids and grandkids one day without biting my tongue in half, I should probably set the record straight at some point. So, uh, I guess I went ahead and did just that. Probably could have picked a better time for it, though." When he turned back to face Lee and saw his stunned expression, his smile faltered somewhat. "Lee? What's the matter?" 

"You really think about all that?" Lee asked tremulously, happiness blooming in his chest. While their relationship had certainly moved quickly that first year, they'd never really sat down to talk about where they saw things going in the long run. And here Richard was throwing a scenario like that out there casually as you please, like he'd already been giving it a lot of thought. 

"You bet I do," Richard admitted, and as he took a step closer, Lee's fingers simultaneously curled into the front of his shirt and Richard's arms wrapped around him and they kissed, and even though the house was full of people, Lee didn't care if any of his more conservative relatives might take offense at their PDA. "Am I forgiven?" Richard murmured as he pulled back with a smile, delaying opening his eyes as if to memorize the taste of Lee's lips on his. 

"Mmm, no, I'd say you have some work to do on that score," Lee said quasi-seriously, sneaking a look at his wristwatch to check how many more hours of family obligations there were to go before they could make their excuses and go find their guestroom with the big feather bed. "Keep going the way you're going, though." 

"I'll do my best," Richard said, the two of them sharing a secretive little smile before regretfully letting go of each other. At the last minute, however, just before Lee could step out of reach, Richard grasped his hand unexpectedly. "Hey. I love you." 

Taken aback by the sudden urgency in Richard's gaze, which seemed somewhat at odds with the playful mood, Lee opened his mouth to echo the sentiment but then shut it again. Somehow, he sensed that a different response was required. "I know that, Rich." 

"You do?" When Lee nodded, Richard's tense expression relaxed into a smile. "Good. And don't you ever forget it." 

Three years and one devastating breakup later, Lee could still picture plain as day the way Richard had looked at him at that Thanksgiving party, the hope for the future radiating from his eyes, and it made him sick with heartache now to acknowledge that he _had_ allowed himself to forget what Richard had been trying to tell him so emphatically that day. Even if Richard had lost sight of what a good thing they'd had, swallowed up by that soul-sucking job as he had been, Lee should have been there to remind him. But he'd failed miserably at that, and if the past few months had taught him one thing, it was that he hadn't won anything by walking out - he had only lost, and he didn't know how much hope there was now of recovering what was, by all accounts, the best shot at forever he'd ever get. He was, quite frankly, not even entirely sure he wasn't about to be kicked out of the bed and sent on his merry way. _Well that was fun, thanks for scratching the itch, so long and Merry Christmas_. 

He needn't have worried. Richard seemed perfectly comfortable where he was, even curled up on his side and drew the blankets up to cover them both before pulling Lee close. "Don't go," he murmured sleepily. "It's late and the roads are icy and it's Christmas. Stay." 

That one little word - _stay_ \- packed a powerful punch, and it was several long moments before Lee trusted his voice enough to whisper back, "Thank you." But by then he wasn't even sure if Richard was still awake to hear it, and he never got a response. 

The next morning - Christmas morning, but Lee didn't get to appreciate that fact until quite a bit later - they both woke with their cocks hard against their bellies, so they had sex again for good measure, Lee throwing one leg over to straddle Richard on his knees and pushing down impatiently on the two fingers Richard used to fastidiously spread him open, trying to take him deeper and force a faster pace, until Richard finally relented and guided his cock in instead for Lee to ride any way he wanted to. And Lee did so without a trace of embarrassment, curling his fingers into the bedding and into Richard's hair and encouraging him, with needy moans, to bruise his hips and ass with his fingers and his neck with his teeth and to give him his come now, now, _now_. It didn't take long for either of them to climax, Richard the first to break pace as he bucked up into Lee and spilled with a harsh, deep groan. Lee wasn't far behind, grinding down frantically on Richard's slippery cock as he rode out a violent orgasm of his own. At the last minute Richard's fingers had wrapped around him helpfully, just in time to take Lee over the edge and rub him dry. 

Afterwards, it came naturally to Lee to stretch himself out on top of Richard and bury his face against his neck, the comforting, familiar smell of his skin almost enough to drown out the despair that followed in the wake of sexual euphoria. In a way, he had almost hoped for this morning romp to confirm that last night was a one-off, that they wouldn't able to replicate that kind of sexual frenzy a second time, but if anything, this proved the exact opposite. Even in the cold grey light of morning, the chemistry was still there, strong as ever. _Damn it_. 

After a few minutes of lazy cuddling, however, they both started feeling the need to wipe themselves clean, so Lee reluctantly got out of bed to go in search of some tissues. When he came back and found Richard quietly smoking a cigarette, he couldn't hide his surprise. "You started smoking again?" After several failed attempts, Richard had been so proud to have finally quit the habit. 

Richard shrugged, letting smoke escape from the corner of his mouth. "I did a lot of dumb, stupid things, and this isn't the worst of them." 

"Yeah?" Lee slid back under the covers, where it was warm and smelled of sex, and plucked the cigarette from Richard's fingers to sneak a hit. "Then what is?" 

"I think you know." 

They continued to smoke in silence, passing the cigarette back and forth until Richard stubbed it out in an ashtray he kept in a drawer by the bed. He seemed to be taking an unnecessarily long time with it, as if he was stalling, avoiding what he knew had to come next. 

So it was Lee who decided to bite the bullet. 

"So," he said, softly and somewhat haltingly, because this was the question they'd been dancing around all this time, and the one he'd been most scared to ask. "What happened here, Rich? Where does this leave us?" 

"I don't know." Richard reclined back into the pillows with a sigh, putting an arm up to fold under his head. He didn't look at Lee, instead stared up at the ceiling contemplatively as if the answers were written there. "I just know I still love you." 

Lee's heart did a traitorous little flip at the admission, but, as much as he wanted to reciprocate, he knew there were a few other things he had to say first. He rolled onto his side, propped his head up on his hand. "Listen, Rich, I know that back then, I made you feel like the disintegration of our relationship was all your fault, I made a lot of angry accusations, not all of which were fair. I need to apologize for that." 

"No, as a matter of fact you don't." This time, Richard did turn his head to face Lee. "You were actually right about a lot of it, Lee. You were bang on the money about the job and how it was destroying me. Destroying us. You saw the warning signs and tried pointing them out to me and I refused to listen. I was stuck in a job I didn't really want and too busy pretending otherwise to take your concerns into consideration. If anyone should make an apology, it's me." 

"I appreciate that, Rich, but I'm not letting you take all the blame for what happened. Once I snapped, I just never gave you another chance, did I? Slammed that door right in your face, literally and figuratively. You gotta admit- that was pretty damn cold." 

"You were just hurt," Richard said, reaching for the pack of cigarettes. "Mind if I light another?" 

"What- no, be my guest." Lee watched, mesmerized, as Richard put a cigarette between his lips and flicked the lighter. "Yeah, I was hurt. Be that as it may, I could have been more forgiving. I can't tell you how much I regret treating you the way I did." 

"Maybe you did the right thing, the only thing you could do to get my attention," Richard said pensively. "I mean, being kicked to the curb like that - yeah, that woke me up for sure. I quit the job a couple weeks later." 

This revelation, so casually delivered despite its enormity, knocked the wind out of Lee for a moment, and he actually gasped for breath. "You _quit_?" 

"Mmm." Richard had taken to staring at the ceiling again. "Well, technically I asked for my old job back first, they told me that was not an option, so _then_ I quit." 

"My God." Lee shook his head in bewilderment. If there was one thing he hadn't expected, it was this. "And this was, what, months ago? And you never told me?" 

"Would it've made a difference?" 

"Would it-" Lee stared at him incredulously. "Of course it would have made a difference. At the very least, it would have shown me that you were finally willing to admit that job wasn't making you happy, and were taking steps to change that. That's really what I wanted for you all along." 

"I'm sorry." Richard's eyes flicked in Lee's direction apologetically. "I guess part of me - call it the male ego, or whatever - was too proud to come crawling back with the tail between my legs and have you say 'I told you so'. That probably sounds terrible and makes me an even bigger twat, but for a while it was the truth." 

Lee smiled. "I appreciate the honesty, actually." 

"And then there was a part of me that didn't want to tell you until I got my shit together and my mess of a life fixed." Richard passed Lee the cigarette and rolled over on his side, putting his hand on Lee's waist - a small gesture that nonetheless seemed to bridge a gap that been there without either of them really noticing. His gaze was earnest. "Do you understand, Lee? Do you understand why I decided not to reach out until I had found a new job and was a little more stable and had something to offer you?" 

"Sweetheart, you always have something to offer me." Lee was no longer able to resist reaching out and sliding his fingers through Richard's hair affectionately. The term of endearment slipped out of its own accord too. "But yeah, I do understand. And in case I haven't been emphatic enough about this, I'm proud of you, Rich." 

Richard closed his eyes and breathed what sounded like a little sigh of relief. "Thank you. At the same time, though, I'm thankful as fuck that you decided to crash my miserable Christmas Eve pity party." 

At this Lee laughed, softly, but it was a good feeling all the same. Liberating - that was how it felt. "Me too," he said sincerely, still enjoying the simple act of stroking Richard's hair. "I still can't believe you answered when I rang. I for sure thought I was going to have to deposit your gift in the mailbox and drive all the way back without seeing you. That you'd flown out to the UK to see your family over the holidays." 

"Nah." Richard lowered his eyes. "I mean sure, I thought about it, but I don't think they'd have thanked me for souring their festive season with my personal shit. Better to be morose and gloomy by myself and avoid the uncomfortable questioning."

"About what?" 

"About you. About how I could have been so stupid as to let you go. They always loved you and wouldn't have let me hear the end of it. And since I am still figuring out the answers to those questions myself, I thought it best to skip a family Christmas this year." 

"We've both been pretty damn stupid, I'd say." Lee stubbed out the cigarette and settled down on his side facing Richard, their noses almost touching. "So you were planning to spend Christmas Day holed up in here feeling sorry for yourself, is that about right?" 

"Pretty much." Richard thought for a moment and smiled. "Graham took pity on me. He gave me the key to the cabin to use while he and Karen are in Canada skiing over the holidays. He thought I might want to head up there for a bit and clear my head, but-" He trailed off. 

_The cabin_. Those two little words unlocked a treasure trove of fond memories Lee had taken great care to keep shut these past few months, of romantic weekends spent together in Richard's friend Graham's mountain cabin in upstate New York, of going hiking, or fishing in one of the nearby streams, of splitting logs and warming their feet by the fire, of eating marshmallows and swigging whisky straight from the bottle and sharing a blanket under the clearest starry skies Lee had seen both until then and since. And when it was too cold to sleep outside or they wanted a little more comfort, there was a big comfortable bed inside Graham didn't mind them using. ("Just don't tell me what you get up to between those sheets," he'd said with a stern wiggle of his eyebrows, "I don't need that kind of picture inside my head.") 

They'd been happy at that cabin. They'd even talked about getting one of their own one day. 

"But...?" 

Richard sighed. "But all that place would remind me of is you. I'd come back more miserable than I went. So yeah, I guess the plan was to stay in and wallow. Granted, this is a pretty shitty apartment, but it has one advantage in that it didn't remind me of you." 

"What if-" Lee caught himself, sparing a moment to consider the potential craziness in what he was about to propose. By finishing that sentence, he would be opening himself up to a very real possibility of disappointment and heartache and he'd already had his fair share of that. But something he saw in Richard's gaze reassured him that it was a risk worth taking. "What if we did go?" he said, heart pounding. "Just pack a couple things and head up there for a day or two like we used to?" 

"To the cabin? Are you serious?" 

Lee nodded. "Yeah. We've both been stuck in the city by ourselves this Christmas and been about as miserable as each other from what I can tell. A change of scenery'd do us both good." He became more and more excited about the idea as he talked, more excited than he had been about anything in quite some time. "Think about it, Rich. The country was always the perfect place for us to decompress and talk and refuel. Do you remember how simple life was up there? Whenever we were at the cabin together, I always felt like I could stay there with you forever and never have an unhappy thought again in my life." 

"Yeah," Richard said softly, "I remember it the same way." 

"So let's do it, Rich," Lee enthused, grasping his hand. "Let's load up the car and go. It'll be so pretty up there right now with the snow. You and me and a nice little fire - it'll be like a proper Christmas after all. And we can talk, really talk, the way we should have six months ago. Figure out where to go from here. If there's still love here, and I know there is, I think we can find a way forward. Don't we owe ourselves that?" 

He sounded like a child and he knew it. An impromptu trip to the country was a reckless idea and he knew that too. One or two good fucks did not a mended relationship make, and they'd only just began scratching the surface of what was needed to fix what had been broken. But they stood nothing to lose and everything to gain, and if Richard said yes to this - this bold, impulsive, crazy idea - Lee knew they had a shot. 

It was more than he would have dared to hope for when he rang Richard's doorbell the previous night. 

"So... what do you say?" Lee bit his lip. "Other than 'Lee, you're bloomin' crazy', because I already know that." 

Richard looked perplexed for a moment and then started to laugh - the first real, warm, genuinely joyous laugh Lee had heard from him in a long, long time, and God, how good it felt to make Richard laugh like that. In the end, he hadn't done that enough, not by a long shot, and what he wished for more than anything was a chance to rectify that. 

Incredibly, it seemed as though he might yet get that chance. 

"Give me twenty minutes to shower and pack a quick bag, thirty if you want breakfast before we get on the road." Still chuckling, Richard leaned across and kissed him, fingers caressing the nape of Lee's neck affectionately as he did so. "And yes, Lee, you are a bloody nutter alright, but you know what?" 

"What?" Lee prompted, breathless, heart flooding with hope at the warmth in Richard's eyes.

"I wouldn't have you any other way."


End file.
